When The West Wind Moves
by Suzakugrly
Summary: SLASH; AU; CSI:Miami Crossover; When Harry’s friends are killed he’s thinking conspiracy, Horatio’s thinking murder and we all know that Miami never closes…
1. Part One

**Title: When the West Wind Moves**

**Author: **suza

**Beta: **mickey_stone (all remaining mistakes are mine :D )

**Rating:** FRT-13

**Fandom:** CSI: Miami and Harry Potter

**Part:** 1/5

**Pairing:** ??/??

**Warning:** Slash, a little weird (what do you expect with a CSI-magic crossover?), AU (completely disregards several HP books and facts I didn't like :P )

**Summary:** When Harry's friends are killed he's thinking conspiracy, Horatio's thinking murder and we all know that Miami never closes…

**Disclaimer:**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and/or Jerry Bruckheimer, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes:** This is my first fic after a break of almost two years. I hope it's not too crappy.

**Additional A/N: **This story is still WIP. I am struggling and fighting with the last part but I am working on it. I have no idea when it will be finished, though. So it will take a while to update (as I don't want to put all of it up just to leave everyone wait forever for the end).

Also, please note that English is NOT my native language. Even though I am quite fluent in it there are bound to be mistakes. I also mostly use American English whereas my beta as a British lady obviously doesn't so there might be some weird spelling mistakes left.

**When the West Wind Moves**

**Part 1: For to gaze awhile upon the fields of barley**

Sunglassed eyes looked straight at the burning hot sun as he got out of his car. A bright smile graced his full lips; his mood just as shiny as the sun in the sky above. He walked up to the house he'd parked in front of, unlocked the door with his spare key and let himself in.

"Honey, I'm home!" He called with a small snicker, knowing he was here on business with a friend and not much else. Well, it was business to him anyways. Stepping through the hall into the big living room, he found his customer and friend sitting on the couch, as usual. But that was where the similarities to their usual encounters every Tuesday stopped.

With wide eyes he took in his surroundings. The light walls and furniture seemed to glow on the sun light falling through the large windows and glass sliding doors. The dark wooden shelves with the impressive book collection were untouched, as was the entertainment system right next to them. Nothing would have seemed out of the ordinary if it wasn't for his customer's dead eyes staring sightlessly up to the ceiling.

"Aww, shit." He sighed and turned on his heels, taking the same way out of the house as he'd come in. He also took the same way through the front yard back to his car. Leaning against the car, he pressed a speed dial button on his cell phone. He was speaking as soon as he heard the line being picked up, not giving the one on the other end the chance to answer. "You said to call you, if I ever ended up in trouble."

"Yea, what's up?" was the simple answer.

"Well," he hesitated, "I'm in deep shit trouble."

"Are you all right?" the other's voice sounded concerned, even through the line.

"Well, yes, I think I am. My customer on the other hand is not. I've just found Reed dead on his couch." He explained, trying desperately to not sound overly hysterical.

He failed.

"Ok, listen, here's what we're gonna do: You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself a little. Tell me the address and stay put. I'll be down immediately with a team. We'll figure this out, ok?"

He swallowed heavily and took a deep breath, somehow calmed a little by the other's rational thinking. "Yea, ok."

-*-*-*-*-

"Do we have a cause of death, yet, Alexx?" Horatio asked as he stepped into the living room of one Mister Reed Cartwright, a diamond broker found dead on his couch only a few minutes prior by a friend around 11 am.

The dark ME looked up from were she kneeled in front of the victim and smiled sadly. "No. Actually we have nothing. No external wounds or any other signs of violence. I can tell you more after the post." She smiled, turning to the body, "we'll find out what put you into this situation, won't we, honey?"

Horatio nodded. "Thanks, Alexx. Keep me posted. Calleigh, you and Eric process the living room and from there the whole house. This is an upstanding member of society dead here. I want to know who, when and what. I want to know all of the victim's habits; where he was when and what he did there."

Calleigh smiled in answer, "Sure thing, Horatio."

Horatio nodded satisfied and turned to Speedle, "Speed, I want you to do Trace outside. If this was a murder, the suspect had to come in here and leave somehow, didn't he?" Not waiting for an affirmative response, Horatio turned and walked out of the house, he had a witness to talk to.

Horatio met Yelina near the front door, where she stood, watching their witness leaning against a European sports car with observant eyes. He, too, took a moment to take a look at the young man. He looked to be in his late twenties; his body was toned, so he probably worked out on a quite regular basis. He wore a black tight leather pants and an equally tight black sleeveless shirt, neither left any room for imagination. Horatio looked down and found delicate pumps instead of the boots he had expected. His eyes traveled back up their witness' body, not missing a detail of it. He took in the sun tanned skin, noticing one of the main differences between their witness and the men and women he usually met of the high society: he was not perfect. There was a round scar from a puncture wound on his left upper arm and a faint trace of a scar on his forehead, peeking out under the wild, black locks. Usually those he met used plastic surgery to hide these _imperfections_. Though, looking at the wild, black mop of hair on their witness' head, the dark sunglasses covering half of the man's face and the tight cloths clinging to a nearly perfect body, Horatio found that just these little imperfections like the scars made this young man look so perfect.

The witness saw them approaching and stood up straight. He himself wasn't overly tall, maybe about 5'6", well, without the four inch heel. Horatio noticed that the witness was still about five inches smaller than he himself was, despite the shoes.

Standing with his hands on his hips and his head a little crocked to one side, Horatio gave the witness another once over glance before introducing himself. "I'm Lieutenant Horatio Caine, this is Detective Salas. We have a few questions concerning Mr. Cartwright."

The witness smiled sadly, took his sunglasses of his face and held his hand out for both Yelina and Horatio. "I'm glad to meet you, Lieutenant, Detective, though I would have preferred it to be under different circumstances. My name is Harry Potter."

Horatio was a little taken aback by the openness shown on Harry's face, but also by the brilliant emerald green eyes twinkling at him. Harry Potter smiled again, beaming slightly at Horatio, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. "You said something about questions, Lieutenant, I would love to answer every single question you have, but I would prefer to do so in a closed room with none of those blood suckers snooping into other people's business," Harry continued, waving his hands into the direction of the reporters already at the scene.

Yelina chuckled. "Would you be willing to come to the station with us to talk?"

Harry nodded, "of course. Anything you need. Could I ride my own car or do I have to ride in the back of one of those flashy cars with the sirens?" He winked and flashed another smile, though Horatio could tell that he was playing the flirty goof-off. "I would hate to leave my car here, while the press is here."

Horatio traded a look with Yelina and then shrugged, turning back to Harry. "We'd prefer for you to ride with us, but we can have your car driven to the station…"

"What? And have some idiot get scratches on my precious?" Harry interrupted, looking outraged. "Ok, listen, Lieutenant, how about I drive my car and you have someone ride with me. I am willing to do anything to help clear this up, but no one but me is riding my car."

It was Horatio's turn not to chuckle at their witness' antics. "Very well, I'll have my CSIs take my car back to the station and I'll catch a ride with you."

"Oh, great!" Harry exclaimed. "It's been a while that I had a hot redhead in my precious."

Yelina looked shocked at a laughing Horatio, who just got into the sports car. Harry shrugged at her. "What can I say, I'm a sucker for redheads."

-*-*-*-*-

True to his word, Harry was willing to talk as soon as they sat down in the interrogation room.

"I've told you, Detective Salas, that I was a friend of Reed's and that is true, even though it's not the only aspect of our relationship." Harry sighed deeply, turning to look out the window. "I arrive at Reed's house every Tuesday at exactly 11 am, maybe a few minutes earlier, but never later than that. I park right in front of the door, walk up to the house and open the door." He stopped, swallowing and took out a keychain. His hands were shaking just slightly and only if one would look for it, one would notice. "I have a spare key," he explained, removing the key from the keychain and laying it on the table in front of him. "Reed likes…he liked domestic bliss so I usually greeted him with "honey, I'm home", it was a running gag between us. His maid was off on Tuesdays from half past ten on. I never met her, she cleaned and shopped for food in the morning and left half an hour before I arrived. I cooked for Reed and myself and after dinner we'd sit together and talk. I'd help him with his stuff, like looking through bills, and listen to him talk or rant about his week…" Harry said, trailing off.

"Well, that does sound like you're a good friend to him, Mr. Potter," Yelina conceded.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, just that I was paid for my service. Reed was a good friend and I would have done that without payment, but he kept on paying me just like before."

"Are you saying, what I think you're saying, Mr. Potter?" Horatio inquired.

"A gentleman would call me an escort, but all I actually am, have been for the last ten years and probably will be for the rest of my life is a whore."

"Did your relationship with Mr. Cartwright include sexual favors?" Yelina asked, somewhat surprised at the discoveries.

"Sometimes, but not always. Sometimes I would stay longer and then we would have sex. Sometimes he didn't even let me go to the kitchen in favor of dragging me straight to bed. Sometimes all he'd do was hold me in his arms. Like I said before, Reed loved domestic bliss. He'd lost his wife about seven years ago and came to me, at the time I was still own by my boss. I bought myself off two years later and only catered to three exclusive customers with specific needs from then on. I meet Richard on Mondays, Reed on Tuesdays and Jason on Wednesdays. It took me another three years to save enough money to actually retire and live comfortable off it for the rest of my life without worrying overly much. I told all three of them that I would quit and we could meet as friends no payments required. All three of them told me pretty much the same." Harry clarified.

"And what would that be?" Yelina asked, leaning back in her chair.

"They'd care for me and wanted to make sure I was taken care of. So I continued to receive weekly payments from them."

"How much would that be?"

"In case you're thinking I killed Reed for insurance or the money he'd have left me, you're mistaken, Lieutenant. Neither Reed's will nor his life insurance is in my favor. So if you're going onto the money as a motive you're wrong. If that would have been my motivation to kill, why should I? All three of my customers pay me quite a lot of money and I am not in favor of their wills. It would be quite stupid of me to kill the one paying me 2000 US Dollars a week, wouldn't it?" Harry asked, smirking slightly.

"Indeed that would be stupid. Well, I don't think we have any other questions. I'd like to ask you to stay in town, Mr. Potter."

"Lieutenant, Miami has been my home for the last ten years, I'm not going anywhere. Besides, I just basically told you, that I am an illegal hooker and compromised my work. You know, you could have me arrested for that, right?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow at Horatio.

"I'm well aware of that, Mr. Potter. But I am curious, you said that you've been in this business for the last ten years, yet we don't have you in our system. Why?"

Harry grinned, "As my Head of House at school liked to tell me "sheer, dumb luck, Mr. Potter, sheer, dumb luck"." But then he admitted slowly, "I am a high priced hooker, if that's what you're asking. I had some of that sheer, dumb luck, when my ex-boss came to collect me. He liked my looks, so he trained me to cater to high society customers. It's what saved me from going onto the streets. But don't let yourself be fooled; the business up there is just as hard as on the streets, maybe even harder. Those with money usually think everything is buyable. They don't always realize that people like me are just as human and breakable as their lovely wives at home. Here," he pulled out a business card from his pants pocket, "this has my address and phone number on it. If you need anything or if I can help in any way, please don't hesitate to ask. Don't get me wrong, I might not have been in love with Reed but I loved him dearly, as a friend and regular lover. I am willing to do about anything to have his murderer in custody." Harry said as he stood.

"One more question then, Mr. Potter, you think this was a murder?"

Harry smiled at Yelina, "Yes, Detective; I think it was. I know it was."

TBC

Thank you for reading. Hope I kinda spiked some interest. Reviews will make me work faster... :D


	2. Part Two

**Title: When the West Wind Moves**

**Author: **suza

**Beta: **mickey_stone (all remaining mistakes are mine :D )

**Rating:** FRT-15

**Fandom:** CSI: Miami and Harry Potter

**Part:** 2/5

**Pairing:** ??/??

**Warning:** Slash, a little weird (what do you expect with a CSI-magic crossover?), AU (completely disregards several HP books and facts I didn't like :P )

**Summary:** When Harry's friends are killed he's thinking conspiracy, Horatio's thinking murder and we all know that Miami never closes…

**Disclaimer:**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and/or Jerry Bruckheimer, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes:** Thank you all for your lovely reviews, it's made my day reading them.

Many of you asked about several things but mainly why Harry was a hooker, how he came to live in Miami and what happened to his inheritance. I know you all want them answered and I am sorry to tell you that They won't be answered till part 3. But at the very beginning of part 3, though that won't make you hate me less, will it?

**When the West Wind Moves**

**Part 2: Will you stay with me, will you be my love**

Harry took a deep breath as he pulled up in front of the gate; punching in the security code opened the gate for him, allowing him to drive up to the mansion. It'd been almost a week since he'd found Reed's body. He'd called Richard and Jason; of course, trying to cancel their appointment, but neither would hear any of it. Both had insisted on their meetings. He sighed; he was putting people he loved in danger again by not being able to say no to them. Maybe when all this was over he'd take a class in "How to say no to people you love".

He knew Reed had been killed by the Killing Curse; he'd felt the magical residue in the house. It hadn't been enough for him to tell instantly who had done it, but he knew it was someone practicing the Dark Arts on a regular basis. A few names of uncaught Death Eaters sprang immediately to his mind, but he didn't have any proof yet. He'd called all his contacts, trying to find out if any of the missing Death Eaters were in the area, but no such luck. The Death Eaters stayed missing and Harry was none the wiser about who'd killed one of his closest friends. A quick call to headquarters had told him that one dead homosexual no matter how upstanding a citizen he had been, even one killed by dark magic, didn't qualify as important enough to allow Harry to give out classified information to the Miami DADE Crime Investigation team to solve the murder. Harry had been beyond angry at that, asking what would be important enough and filing a complaint against his superior. He hated politicians, hypocrites the lot of them.

In the end it just meant, that Harry was allowed to investigate on his own but not with Lieutenant Caine's team already investigating the crime. Now, one dead man killed by dark magic was not that unusual as one would like to think. Even though the American Magical World was nothing like the hidden society in Britain, there were quite a few wizards and witches running around in this huge country. Maybe, Harry thought, Reed had made some business enemies who were magical. If it had been some sort of crime lord, he would have someone on his staff to do the dirty work with magic and know how to clean up after himself.

Just because it was a magical crime didn't meant that it was a conspiracy against Harry…well, at least not always. Though Harry found it an incredible coincidence that it had been someone so close to him being killed by magic. Fact was that he knew how Reed was killed and that whoever did it, could have accessed the house easily with an _Alohomora_, a spell taught in first year at Hogwarts.

The last time he'd talked to Lieutenant Caine about the case, he'd been told that the crime scene had been clean, too clean. Not a single fingerprint had been found, except one disregarded Harry's prints on the front door. Neither had any footprints been found but Harry's in the hallway. Lieutenant Caine had also mentioned that they hadn't been able to find a single one of Reed's finger or footprints in the whole living room. Harry had an explanation for that, too. A simple cleaning charm applied the right way could do that to a room. Which meant they were looking for a professional.

He knew the only reason this was still even considered a crime, was Reed's physical health. Nothing had been wrong with him – besides the fact that he was dead. No specialist they'd called in had been able to tell them the cause of death.

Taking another deep breath, Harry stepped out of the car, walked to the house and let himself in; a weird sense of déjà vu running through him. Carefully he stepped into the house, looking for any trace of someone being there, who shouldn't be.

He felt the magic before he even saw the door of the living room and sighed. Somehow he'd known that it couldn't have been a coincidence. Harry recognized the profile of an insane serial killer when he saw one, and this had Dark Lord written all over it. Weird how _He_ never stopped ruling over his life not matter the time or place, Harry thought, opening the door to the living room.

The whole room seemed to be untouched much like Reed's living room had been. It was clean; Harry could practically smell the cleaning charm all over the room. Richard was sitting in his favorite leather chair, head leaned back and dead eyes staring at the ceiling. He looked exactly like Reed had only six days prior.

Harry's eyes blazed with fury. One magical death of someone close to him might have been a coincidence, but two of them in less than a week was not. Turning sharply on his heels, he strode angrily out of the house, snapping his cell phone open as he went. Pressing the speed dial button, he muttered enraged under his breath about insane Dark Lords coming back from the grave to haunt him.

"Richard's dead," he said as soon as the other picked up his phone. "Damn this all to hell, I told you this was a murder, why didn't you find the bastard doing this?"

There was a pause on the other end. "Calm down and run that by me again. What happened?"

"It's Monday. I always meet Richard on Mondays. I came to the house and found him in the very same position I had found Reed in. Everything cleaner than clean and no indication of a struggle or violence, just like Reed. I damn well told you this was a murder and not some weird thing happening; now are you finally going to get your ass moving and do something about it?" Harry yelled into the phone, breathing heavily.

"Are you finished?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Well, yes, I am still pissed though."

"I imagine that. Remember what I told you last Tuesday after you'd found Reed?"

"Yes, take a deep breath, get calm and you'll be here in a few minutes with a team," Harry ranted off.

-*-*-*-*-

Horatio got out of the Hummer and walked over to their witness, once again leaning against his car. "Mr. Potter, we meet again."

Harry's head snapped up, sending his hair flying wild. Growling low in his throat, he sent a vicious glare at Horatio. "Do not remind me. How the hell could you have not been able to find this sick fucker in a weeks time with all of your fancy new technology, Lieutenant. This," he gestured to the house, "shouldn't have happened again!"

Yelina, standing next to Horatio, glared at Harry. "Mr. Potter, there is no need to be so rude. We are working full time on this case, where you keep insisting that it's a murder we have no evidence for."

"No need? No need to be upset?" Harry screeched, looking at them with wild eyes. "This has been the second time within a week that a friend and customer of mine was killed and you're telling me not to be rude? Well, excuse me for being alarmed."

Before Yelina could answer him, snapping at him, Horatio held up his hand in a soothing gesture. "Now, let's not get too carried away with this, shall we. Mr. Potter, we'll need you to come with us again to answer some questions. Why don't you give me your car keys and I'll drive you to the station. Don't worry; we're not leaving your car here. My CSIs will process the scene and then we'll see what we can find, ok?"

Harry just nodded shakily, holding out his keys for Horatio to take. Horatio guided Harry back to the car and got him seated on the passenger's side. Looking up to Yelina, he motioned her to follow him in her car, while getting into the car and driving off the property.

-*-*-*-*-

Harry stared at the glass of water in front of him, toying with it. On the opposite side of the table sat Yelina, facing him. "I am a suspect now, am I not?" He asked out of the blue, finally looking up.

"Well, Mr. Potter," Yelina started a little uneasy, "you did find two of your friends, both of whom were financing you, dead within a week."

"Yeah, well, it would seem suspicious," Harry said with a snort and a roll of his eyes.

"Why don't you, Mr. Potter tell us what you think what happened?" Horatio asked, leaning against the windowsill.

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Try us, Mr. Potter, we might surprise you." Horatio said.

Harry stayed silent for a while, studying Horatio intently. It seemed as if he was looking for an answer, which he obviously found as he leaned back and tried to brave a smile. "Well," he sighed deeply, "the profile indicates an insane, ego-centric serial killer with me as his main target. That's of course taking into account that you believe in my innocence."

"And how would you know how to do a murder profile?" Yelina asked, her tone clearly indicating that she didn't believe Harry could.

Harry glared at her mocking tone. "I'll have you know, Detective, that this is not the first insane killer I've had on my back in my life. Not the first one with exact the same profile, either. And seeing as not all of _His_ merry band of followers were captured or killed, it leads me to believe that one of them is doing this. This leads us to the main problem and reason I have not said anything yet; mostly, this is highly classified information and no begging whatsoever led my boss to believe that this is important enough to include you. So I am not allowed to tell you a lot more than I already have."

Yelina frowned. "Classified information? How would you be able to access those?"

Not waiting for Harry's answer, Horatio found another detail weird. "You said you bought yourself free from your boss about five years ago, am I correct?"

Harry leaned back in his chair and, despite the situation, smirked at Yelina. "You notice how you don't seem to believe I can do any of the things I've just told you about and he just skips to the other man in my life? Is there something you're not telling me, Lieutenant?"

Despite herself, Yelina quirked a small smile, one didn't often get the chance to see Horatio Caine speechless and gasping like a fish out of water. "Now, Mr. Potter, enough of this. We need you to cooperate as much as you are able to share with us."

Both, Yelina and Horatio, watched intently as Harry stood and walked to the window. "My life ended fifteen months after I was born. There was a…killer; he terrorized a whole community. He had some followers; they called themselves Death Eaters. They _hunted_ in groups, torturing innocent people who didn't agree with their ideas. There was a small group of people fighting against the Death Eaters. My parents were part of it, but even if they hadn't been, they would have been targeted. They went into hiding with something like a witness protection system. There was only one person who knew where they were, but that rat of a man betrayed them. He led the killer directly to my parents' house…" Harry trailed off, staring out of the window.

The room was silent for several minutes. Harry continued to stare seemingly unseeing out of the window, while Horatio and Yelina traded a look. It was quite obvious what had happened. Still, Harry turned his head to watch the detectives and smiled sadly. "I have only one memory of my parents. My Dad yelling at my Mom to take me and run; his dead body hitting the ground a few seconds later. My Mom pleading for my life; _Him_ telling her to get out of the way or die, but she kept fighting." He stopped, stumbling over his words. "I'm not allowed to tell you why he just wanted my Dad and me dead, but seeing as my Mom's been dead for almost thirty years and I am still standing here, you can probably guess what option she chose."

"I am sorry for your loss, Mr. Potter, but I don't quite see how this is the same case."

"Oh, you will, Detective Salas," Harry said, turning to lean on the windowsill much like Horatio was doing on the other side of the room. "This killer I was talking about was seriously injured during the fight with my Mom. It took him about ten years to come back; I was eleven at the time. He attacked me on a yearly basis. I fought back, but never managed to hurt him, whereas I usually came badly mangled from our fights. It was when I was seventeen that he started a sick game with me. He captured my friends and tortured them, always killing them in the process. He would only attack people I cared about and go from the ones who weren't overly close to the ones I was closer to. This case we have here has the exact same profile. Meaning someone was watching me and knows who is the closest to me."

"And what would you mean by that?" Horatio asked quietly.

Harry turned back to look out of the window, before he started talking. "Well, don't take this the wrong way, but even though I loved Reed as he was, he was an ego-centric bastard at times. The only person he truly cared about was he himself. He did everything in a calculating way, always out for his best profit."

"You said he cared for you." Yelina stated, looking at her file of the first interview with Harry.

Nodding, Harry admitted, "He did. But that didn't change the fact that he did it to profit from it. He wanted me to play his little domestic wife and I did it for him to make him happy. He took care of me and made sure I was taken care of so I was happy and would comply with his demands. At first I needed the money; later I just didn't mind anymore. He was nice despite the fact that he had manipulated me into enjoying his demands."

"What about Mr. Hopkins, then?"

"Richard was all about sex. He loved it and he loved to try new things; unlike Reed who was quite set in his ways. I was closer to Richard than I was to Reed. I…his death hit me harder, I guess." Harry had the grace to look sheepish as he practically admitted that he'd overreacted when he'd met Horatio this noon.

"So, this last customer of yours, Jason…" Yelina looked at the file again, but wasn't able to find a last name for Jason.

"Cooke. Jason Cooke." Harry answered her unasked question.

"_The_ Jason Cooke? The politician?" Yelina asked to make sure she'd understood right.

"Yeah," Harry grinned a little, "he's quite the looker, isn't he? Jason and I go way back. He's been a customer of mine since I started. He is a very close friend and always took care of me. I owe him a lot; my life even. I am allowed to call him at any time if I need help and I admit that five years ago I needed that quite often. He always had his personal doctors fix me back up. Sadly that was all he could do for me. He couldn't buy me off, seeing as that would have been slavery and being the politician he is, he couldn't risk it. That didn't mean that he wouldn't book me at least twice a week. Damage control. As long as I was with him I couldn't be with any of those sick bastards out there."

"And seeing as he's so special to you, you think that he'll be the next victim." Horatio inquired.

Harry nodded fervently. "Yes. Whoever is doing this knows when I go and where. You know, when I was still owned I had a very irregular schedule so I worked very hard to set up a regular schedule when I was free again. It's probably not that hard to trace me."

Yelina noted everything down in her file, looking at Harry with a frown. "Mr. Potter, is there a reason for you to be staring out of the window all the time?"

"In fact there is, I feel like someone's watching me and it's coming from the outside…" he trailed off, watching the trees and bushes close by intently. "Come on, you scum, I know you're there. Come out and show yourself." He muttered under his breath.

It was only for a few seconds that he saw the small, plump man with long hair framing the bald top of his head; a silver hand flashing in the Miami sun. Next to him walked a bigger, bald man, looking like a bodybuilder in build with beady, brown eyes.

Harry didn't know what shocked him more, that their illusion charm was so weak that he could glimpse through without a problem or that it was indeed them he was seeing. Pettigrew and McNair were still missing, but they weren't intelligent enough to pull a plot like this off alone. There had to be a smarter head, but whom?

With a grim smile, Harry turned around to face the other two occupants in the room. "I really hate to do this to you, but you'll need to include me into your investigation." He flashed a badge and identification, which he had seemingly pulled out of nowhere, at Horatio, "CIA. Special Agent for Magical Law Enforcement."

**A/N: LOL, when I started this chapter I only wrote down that last sentence, knowing it just had to be the last sentence. The rest came along more slowly :P**

**Many thanks to everyone who reviewed or put me or the story on alert. It always made my day and it made me start writing part 4. That hole is rapidly filling, but my best friend will come to visit me for two weeks starting today so I have now idea WHEN exactly I'll be finished with that chapter. It's haunting my nights though, so I think I'll at least write a little during the next two weeks.**


	3. Part Three

**BIG AUTHOR'S NOTE!!! PLEASE READ:**

**I sit here quite ashamed of myself and also deeply humbled. I've had problems writing part 4 of this story ever since I started said part, but even though I was working very slowly on it, I at least made some progress. But not quite so recently I have hit a major writers block with that part. I just don't know how to get out of it. So after beating myself up over not being able to sit down and just write the damn part, I finally decided - with quite a heavy heart - to stop beating myself up over it and sit back, hoping the idea I have been looking for is going to come soon. The reason I am quite ashamed of myself is that even though I am NOT just leaving this story umcomplete, I just CANNOT give it up. I can't, even though I know it would be best for all of you lovely readers, just give this story up for adoption. This is my baby, my first fic after YEARS of not writing at all. So I just can bring myself to just give up on it. In essence that also means that I can't just leave it uncomplete. I will finish this. And I hope it will be very soon. Once again, I apologize for this. I am very sorry.**

**Additionally to my writers block, my RL hit me hard, recently. I have to move back to my home country, which is quite a lot of work. And while I am looking forward to being back home, I also feel quite at home here and will miss my life here. Even worse I started working on my thesis and have no idea how and where to start. So, I am quite torn about me moving and my life is kinda a mess right now. I am very sorry that I have to put this story on the backburner, but I really need to fix my RL before I will even be able to sit down and have the muse to write. **

**Thus, I want to thank everyone who took their precious time to leave a review or just put this story on their alert list. Thank you very much everyone. It always made my day and definitely made me smile a lot.**

**Ok, enough whining about my shitty life. I hope even though it will take me time to update, you will enjoy this part!**

**Thank you**

**xxx kisses xxx**

**Suza**

**When the West Wind Moves 3/5**

**Author: **suza

**Beta: **mickey_stone (all remaining mistakes are mine :D )

**Author's Notes:** Thank you all for your lovely reviews, it's made my day reading them. I tried to answer all you questions in this part, but I might have made you ask new ones. Which is not a problem, seeing as the epilogue and a few side stories are supposed to clear everything up.

I am very sorry, btw, for taking so long. College started again and I am buried in work. I will try to update as soon as possible.

ATTENTION: IF you have any question about Harry the situation or other things, please do not hesitate to ask. I do want to collect questions from my readers, so I can answer them in the next few parts.

**Part 3: The water is wide but not deep**

"Ok, run that by me again, would you? Wizard…like a Witch or a warlock?" Eric asked a little stunned, making Horatio and Yelina smirk at him, despite the fact that they had reacted very much alike a short while ago.

The whole team, including Alexx, who'd asked to be notified if something came up that could clarify the cause of death beyond 'dropped dead with no cause', stood around the big table in the Trace lab and had listened to Harry explain about magic and how it was all classified information.

Harry cringed a little unable to be still with all the unwanted attention on him; a nervous habit he'd never been able to break, just like he never had learned how to deal with the attention he received for not being normal. "Um, yeah, well…" Harry took a deep breath, "an average magical human is called a Witch or Wizard."

Horatio frowned at that. "But you're not an average Wizard, are you now, Mr. Potter?"

They all watched in wonder as Harry looked away, a bright flush coloring his face. Horatio stared hard at Harry, trying to make him talk through his look alone. He might have succeeded, if Alexx wouldn't have swatted him at the shoulder. "Now Horatio, leave the boy alone." Turning to Harry, she walked over to him and gently cupped his face. "Don't worry yourself, honey. Normal is way overrated," she smiled brightly at him, "and if that brute of a Lieutenant bothers you again, you come straight to me, all right?"

Harry nodded, looking stunned at the plain acceptance he was receiving not only from Alexx, but pretty much from the whole team. They'd all pretty much accepted the fact that magic was indeed existent and that he was a Wizard.

Alexx smiled and caressed Harry's cheek with a gentleness only a mother could show. "You know, honey, we won't hate you for being different nor will we hold it against you."

"Thank you, Dr. Woods." Harry whispered, allowing his eyelids to flutter shut briefly as he enjoyed the warmth of the tender hand on his face. Opening his eyes again, he started to explain, "I'm what people call a sorcerer."

"Where would those be in the ranking of magical strength?" Calleigh asked, looking just as curious as everyone else.

"Er," Harry blushed a little, "we don't really have a ranking so to speak, but if you'd like to have one, starting with the ones with the fewest magical strength, you'd have to start with you guys, humans with no magic."

"Say, do you have a term for us or do you always say 'humans with no magic'? I mean it's quite a mouth full." Speed asked with a little smirk.

Harry laughed. "You know, I am not really allowed to say it, but since you asked, in Britain we call you _muggles_, but here in the States it's considered a derogatory term. Especially with the recent history of the word. That killer I told you about, Lord Voldemort, he used to say that, and I quote here, _filthy muggles are not even worth the air they breathe_. I learned quickly to not use the term in the US any longer. Besides as a government agent I am not allowed to use discriminating terms."

Speed nodded in understanding and just opened his mouth to ask something else, as Calleigh interrupted again, "So, the ranking?"

"Demanding, aren't you? Well," Harry stopped to think. How would one explain terms to people who didn't know the least bit about magic? Maybe he should have listened to Hermione more often. "As I was saying, humans with no magic, then there are what we call Squibs. They don't really have magic to cast spells but enough to make a potion, for example. They are usually born into Wizarding families. A Squib could be the result of too much inbreeding in a pureblood line or the result of a magical mother with not enough magic to sustain herself and the magical child growing in her. Again, her low magical level could be a result of centuries of inbreeding. This is actually quite a big problem in the British Magical World, one that the purebloods don't talk about."

"Wow, that sounds all quite scientific," Calleigh said, impressed.

"I didn't even know all that myself till after I took a run from Britain. A friend of mine loves to learn and when she found out where I was and that I was quite bored all day long she sent me several trunks full of shrunken book with the order to read it all." Harry grinned a little at the memory of the letter he'd received from Hermione, stating that she'd quiz him on everything when she saw him the next time. That had been about nine years ago and he hadn't seen her in all that time either. Still, she kept on sending him books to read on a regular basis and once a month he received a letter, telling him of the entire on goings in Britain.

He sighed, "anyways, moving on. We had humans with no magic and Squibs. Right, then there are the average Wizards and Witches. In that category, if you want to call it that, the magical strength varies from just above Squib to almost warlock. The difference between a Squib and a Wizard just above Squib level is mostly that the Squib doesn't have enough magic to cast a spell. The difference between a warlock and a Wizard who is almost a warlock is that the Wizard can't cast spells or charms a warlock can. Reaching the level of a warlock is actually not as hard as one would believe; all it takes is a little more practice. I reached that level when I was thirteen. My friends reached it at fourteen or fifteen. Still, when we were teenagers most adult Wizards couldn't do spells and charms we could, because they never invested time into practice. I think that was one of the reasons they were so scared of us. We had reached a level of magic most didn't and we weren't even half their age." Harry shrugged, showing he didn't really care to understand the Wizarding public's reasoning.

"So the rest of your world was scared of you?" Alexx asked, understanding Harry's need to know they wouldn't be.

"Yeah, my friends and I were the main group fighting. They had all reached the level of warlock long before the fight became deadly. Me being my usual abnormal self, I of course didn't stop practicing and soon reached the level of a Mage. Some of my friends who had special talents were able to keep up, but none of them ever reached the level of a sorcerer. I did, I had to. Voldemort was more than a warlock. He was a dark Mage and an immortal one at that. Well, immortal, till I found out what kept him alive and destroyed that before facing him. There were only a few Wizards who were was strong as me in Britain and they were dead by the time I defeated Voldemort." Harry explained.

Horatio frowned, "and you ran away from Britain after said defeat?"

Harry nodded. "I am in exile, if you want to call it that. I was told I could leave or I could go to prison on death row for murder on Tom Riddle, alias Lord Voldemort. One would think they'd have a better reason, huh?"

They were all speechlessly staring at him. "So you were punished for doing what they wanted you to do?" Eric sputtered, remembering Harry's explanation about the war.

"Pretty much, yeah. I made sure that my friends were out of harms way and ran. I was stupid back then and headless because of the threat. I didn't think to pack anything but some personal things and little money, thinking I had access to my accounts from here. It of course didn't help that the Ministry of Magic practically hovered over my shoulder, watching me pack. I was escorted to the airport and given a one way ticket to New York as soon as I had finished packing. I had no time to even say good-bye to my friends, not to mention run to the bank and get money. So I ended up in New York with a suite case and not even a hundred dollar in my pocket. I soon found out that it was impossible to access my accounts from here and I had to borrow money to survive. Money that I was unable to pay back…" Harry trailed off, a little embarrassed about telling them pretty much everything.

"So that's how you ended up being owned by a pimp," Speed stated.

"That still doesn't explain the main issue at hand now: Who and what is killing those men?" Horatio said, bringing the focus back to the problem.

Harry smiled, impressed at Horatio's focus on the task. "Well, since I had to include you in classified information and am part of the investigation now, this case is now classified at well. I will need to look at your evidence and I especially need to take a look at the bodies, if that's agreeable with you, Dr. Woods?" He asked, turning to smile at Alexx.

"Of course, honey. Follow me and we'll get right at it."

-*-*-*-*-

"So, honey, talk me through this. What are you doing?" Alexx asked, as she watched Harry standing over Reed Cartwright's body only holding his hands, palms down, over his torso.

"I'm doing a full body scan first. That'll show us if anything is wrong with him besides the fact that he's dead."

Alexx frowned, "like broken bones?" She'd already checked everything she could do with technology.

Harry chuckled. "I don't want to discredit you, Dr. Woods. I am not checking for wounds or broken bones. I'm sure you would've found them. No, I'm checking for curses that are not classified as dark. For example a simple disarming charm. It's not dark, but frequently used and leaves us a wonderful magical signature, too. I am quite sure that we're looking at at least three suspects here, so we should be able to find all of them on Reed's and Richard's bodies."

They were silent for a while, Alexx keeping her eyes on the body and the sorcerer next to her, not really seeing anything, but understanding from the look on Harry's face that he was in deep concentration. Harry kept scanning the body, watching as a silvery light poured out of his hands in spidery threads, touching and palpating the body in their search for magical residue.

Alexx watched in fascination as the middle of Cartwright's torso and his forehead suddenly glowed in red and green, respectively. The sorcerer next to her smirked in triumph, "got'cha!"

"So, what does this show us?" Horatio's voice sounded a little tinny, coming through the speakers, as he watched the procedure from the auditorium.

Harry grinned up at him. "This," he pointed at the red light on the middle of the torso, "shows us that someone stunned Reed with a simple stunning spell called _Stupify_. This," he pointed at the green light on the forehead, "shows us that someone killed Reed with the killing curse, which is looked at as the worst of all curses, by the way. Give me about half an hour and I can tell you who cast which curse."

Horatio nodded, "take your time, Harry. I'd prefer you taking an hour and have it done properly. Keep me posted."

"Sure, if you say so. I'll do the same on Richard's body, too, and give you a call then, all right?"

-*-*-*-*-

"There a quite a few holes in your story, aren't there?" Tim Speedle asked Harry as the sorcerer sat next to him, looking at the evidence they'd collected at the two crime scenes. Horatio, who'd been busy when Harry had gone to see him earlier, had hoped that Harry could do the 'magic trick' and make the evidence less…useless.

Harry's head snapped up, sending his wild hair flying. "I beg your pardon?"

Speedle chuckled, only barely resisting the urge to ruffle that wild mop of hair. "Don't look so outraged."

"Well," Harry snapped, a little pissed, "how else would you want me to look like after you practically just accused me of lying?"

"I did not accuse you of lying. I just said that you didn't tell us everything; quite a difference there, if you ask me."

Harry snorted. "Yeah right, and that sounded suspiciously like Slytherin logic right there." He leaned back in his chair, thinking about it. "What makes you say that I didn't tell you guys everything?"

"You mean despite the fact that if we were to believe your story didn't quite fit your timeline, well either that or you just were way too fast?" Speed said, watching Harry with a raised eyebrow.

Pouting a little, Harry winked at him. "And here I had thought I had a reasonable timeline."

"Yeah right, who were you trying to kid? Buying yourself off of your pimp after five years? Sorry to burst you bubble, but not even a high priced hooker is able to pull that off…no, especially a high priced hooker won't be able to. Those pimps love their money and people like you are the ones making sure they get it. They would not have let you go with a payable price. I bet your freedom cost you quite a bit. A few millions at least, am I right?"

"Hey!" Harry said in mock-outrage. "I'll have you know that I was worth much more than just a few million." He sighed and then smiled a little warily at the CSI. "You're right; I am actually surprised that you're the first one to have caught onto that. I had thought your Lieutenant would be sharp enough to catch that, but it seems that he's too concentrated on the case to notice these details."

"That's H for you."

"Hm," Harry crooked his head to the side, "I guess. Are you going to make me tell you how I was able to buy myself off or are you gonna give it a rest?"

Speed simple raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, well, I guessed as much. You criminalists are all the same." Harry glanced at the evidence and then back at the CSI in front of him. "I was found by a former teacher about six years ago. I was still far away from the amount of money I needed to buy myself off and no matter how much I was paid by people like Jason or Reed to make sure that I would be able to get out of there; it never seemed to make a difference, you know. Like no matter how much money I made the amount I had to reach just seemed to increase with my increasing income. So when my former teacher found me, I was in a quite bad shape, and not only mentally that is. I was ready to give up. I had been working for four years, not making a difference…" he trailed off, seemingly lost in his memories.

Speed didn't pressure him, knowing he'd talk when he was ready.

"He was appalled what had become of me, you know?" Harry suddenly continued after a few minutes in silence. "He also had gone into exile after the war, voluntary, but still pretty much the same. He was far cleverer than I am even today, so he had planned ahead and had taken enough money with him to survive till he found a job. He'd been lucky, too, the old bastard. He had just come to Washington, D.C. when the CIA was looking for a Head of Magical Law Enforcement. I'm guessing he was his usual self and terrorized them into giving him the job, but I also know they probably never regretted it. He offered me a job, promising that the CIA would buy me, if they found out who I was."

"And they did?" Speed asked a little stunned.

"No, much like Jason their hands were bound, or so they said. But my teacher, he had no such qualms. He just bought me, telling me that it was the last time he'd save my sorry ass." Harry chuckled a little at the memory. "Out of my twenty-eight years he saved my life at least once every two years. I owe him a lot."

"So he gave you the money you needed?"

"No, he bought me. Technically, he owns me, but he'll have none of that. He bought me to set me free and then he blackmailed me with that information into working for him." Harry grinned. It still amused him.

"Well," Speed said partly sincerely and partly sarcastically, "he sure sounds like he loves you."

Harry snorted. "Not a chance in hell. The old, greasy bastard hated me from the day I was born, the biased asshole."

Before Speed could answer, the door to the Trace lab was opened and a snide voice boomed throughout the whole room. "Detention, Mr. Potter, for disrespect towards your superiors and two-hundred points from Gryffindor!"

Despite himself, Harry flinched violently. He whirled around, gasping at the newcomer. There he stood in black, fitted jeans and an equally black, silk shirt. Different from his black teaching robes, but still black. His black hair was washed and pulled into a tidy pony tail. An elegant dark eyebrow raised, he regarded his former student now turned employee.

Harry's face went pale, paler even than his superior's. "Hello Professor," he greeted the man meekly.

Severus Snape sneered at the young sorcerer. "Some things never change, do they, Potter?"

"Ah, well, no it seems they don't," Harry answered sheepishly, ducking his head in embarrassment. But before Snape could lay further into him, Harry grinned at him, introducing the bemused CSI next to him. "Severus, this is CSI Speedle, he's on Lieutenant Caine's team working on this case. Tim, this is CIA Special Agent Snape, Head of the Magical Law Enforcement and my boss and former teacher."

Speedle grinned. "Yes, Harry had just told me quite a lot about you. Nice to meet you, sir."

With a grunt of acknowledgement, Snape shook Speed's hand in greeting, before turning his attention back to Harry. "Potter, a word," with that said, he turned sharply on his heels and left the lab, leaving a stunned Speedle and a sighing Harry.

"I'll be right back," the young sorcerer said, hesitating at the door, "if I'm not back in thirty minutes, send out a search team for my body. I want to be cremated." With that he left the lab and a laughing CSI behind him.

"Well?" Snape sneered at Harry as soon as the door to the interrogation room closed behind them.

Harry raised a single eyebrow. It wasn't like Snape to not take security measures. With a simple wave of his hand, he corrected that and smiled a little unsure of himself. Snape had to be more irritated than he was letting on. "Well what?" he asked, trying to pull the dumb innocent card, even though he knew that it wouldn't help him. It was worth a try after all.

Snape's dark eyed gaze drilled into him, nearly cracking his Occlumency shields. The glare that followed held promises of uncomfortable revenge, if Harry didn't speak up quickly enough – and soon. Harry sighed, "all right, all right, I give up," he mumbled, holding up his hands in surrender. "No need to try to scare me like an itsy bitsy first year."

The older man's lip curled into a trace of a smile, well, if one knew how to look for it. "Spending too much time with Peeves, again, instead of doing something productive, Potter?"

Harry chuckled, "Nah, just trying to loosen up the atmosphere. But honestly, what is it that has you in such a snit again, Severus?"

"Tell me you didn't tell the Miami DAED team about magic just to spite McDuff!" Severus demanded hotly.

Blinking, Harry finally understood the reason behind Severus' tense body language. "That is what this is about? The agency thinks I revealed us to spite McDuff? That is nonsense!"

"That's what I said, but no matter how much I vouched for you, they wanted me to check up on it, so tell me something good or we'll both be in trouble."

"You shouldn't have done this, Sev, really," Harry whispered, appearing pained.

Severus snorted, "yeah, right. You need someone to look after you like that and I'd rather it'd be me than someone like McDuff. Besides, you know we all swore to protect you even from yourself if needed – I'm just the last of us left alive." Severus smirked, remembering the oath he'd given Harry's mother. He knew that Harry would cease any discussion now to honor his late mother's wishes.

Harry turned abruptly away from Severus and starred through the glass wall, looking straight at Horatio, who stood in the middle of the hall, watching them with a calculating gaze. "I saw Pettigrew and McNair. I knew they'd something to do with this, so I told them and got into the investigation. I had to take a look at the bodies after all," Harry explained, turning back to Severus.

"And? Did you get a look?"

"Yeah, and my suspicions where confirmed. Plus I now know that it is in fact Avery, who is the 'mastermind' – if you want to call him that – behind all this," the young sorcerer continued.

"Tell me," Severus demanded and Harry happily obliged, telling his former teacher about his findings and suspicions. He had come a long way from the troublesome student, who suspected the dark potions teacher first when something went wrong, to the young man respecting and trusting his boss with any case relevant information and even more. Over the last years Severus Snape had turned out to be a man of many secrets and masks. Harry had to respect the man for openly displaying hate towards him, while Severus would have given about anything to raise Harry himself.

Severus let Harry talk, as he always did when Harry came to him nowadays, and listened intently, nodding when it was appropriate.

"I see," Severus said when Harry had ended his tale, looking at his boss with an inquiring glance. "Well, it seems you did the right thing, as I had expected. I am quite pleased with those sightings. You know the protocol in dealing with Death Eaters. Please stay with it, ok?"

Harry nodded, relieved that Severus was not going to take his head off for breaking rules and protocol.

"I expect you to call me when this is over. You will also take a weekend off and come visit me at D.C., we have much to discuss."

"But," Harry tried to protest, only to be cut of with a heated glare.

"It was not a suggestion, Mr. Potter, did I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded sharply.

"Good. Now, I'll see you when this is over. If you need anything, you know how and where to find me," with that said, Severus turned and left the room.

Harry starred at his retreating back, his mouth doing a nice impression of a fish out of water. Still, it took him only a second to realize that Severus had withheld some information. Running after his boss, he caught up with him in the middle of the hallway where Severus was just meeting Horatio and his team minus Alexx.

"Wait, sir, what about McDuff?"

Severus looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "your direct superior was suspended, waiting to be fired as soon as the paperwork is done, due to this being the third complaint against him. It seems that regardless of his heritage he is not only very religious but also very radical in his views about homosexuals."

Harry blinked, "Oh."

"Indeed. Now, Mr. Potter, if you're quite finished taking up my time, I still need to have a word with Lieutenant Caine here before I travel back to D.C." Severus sneered, turning to walk to Horatio's office with said Lieutenant. They had just reached the stairs, when Harry called again. Severus stopped sighing. "What now, Mr. Potter?"

"Who is going to take over McDuff's job, sir? Who do I report to?" If his life would have depended on it, Harry might have admitted to being nervous about a new superior. Not because of the authority over him but because of the fact that this wasn't the first one of his superiors he had to file complaints against, because they were hindering his investigations. McDuff had just gone way over board with his homophobic views of the world.

Severus smirked at him and Harry could have sworn he'd seen an evil glint in those dark eyes. "Why, Mr. Potter, you of course." Without waiting for a reply, Severus walked up the stairs and closed the door firmly behind himself and Horatio, leaving a gasping Harry and grinning CSIs behind.

TBC

ATTENTION: IF you have any question about Harry the situation or other things, please do not hesitate to ask. I do want to collect questions from my readers, so I can answer them in the next few parts.


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